Foxgloves
by Emperor Itaelia
Summary: Not a year following the infamous Christmas catastrophe, Jack feels guilty about leaving Lock, Shock, and Barrel without a guardian, and makes it his mission to make up for it, even if it means, to their displeasure, taking them in himself. Jally
1. Deja Vu

Chapter I: Déjà Vu

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and story at this point. I'm not even sure I own this disclaimer. If you recognize it (that is, in the story), it probably belongs to Mr. Tim Burton.**

* * *

"For the last time, bonehead, we're not interested!" Shock snapped, seizing her younger cohorts by their elbows and wrenching them away from the current king of Halloween.

Jack Skellington sighed and scratched the top of his skull in thought as he watched the three tricksters walk away.

It was late in March for the people and creatures of Halloween Land, with April creeping along close ahead. A mere three months had passed since Jack's infamous "regime change" (for he felt that "takeover" sounded a bit too intentional for the harm that he had not meant to cause) of a foreign holiday, and the town was struggling to return to normal after the two-month disruption. The white powder that Sandy Claws had gifted the town with (they nearly ruined his holiday and he gives them a present? They couldn't say they minded, but it seemed very illogical) had melted when February was still young, to the relief of some of the older residents, namely one of the werewolves, who had been complaining about it getting in his fur and making the soft pads on the bottom of his feet slippery.

Sally, the Doctor's creation, had held a debate with her creator about her living arrangements, aided by Jack. Technically, as the king, the skeleton could've ignored Dr. Finkelstein's opinion altogether, but the idea of a monarchy made Jack uncomfortable (that's why he had the Mayor), and he always wished to seek the townspeople's endorsement before making any decisions that would affect them personally, whether a personal matter between him and that individual or otherwise. After several long weeks, they finally reached a compromise: since Sally was unhappy living with Dr. Finkelstein, she was given the permission to move in to the previously unused guest bedroom at Jack's house (neither were comfortable sharing a bed nor a room at this stage of their relationship, and there was no need, anyway), on the condition that she would visit every other day so that he could help her to progress in her development as a living creation.

The terms were quickly agreed to. For the first few days, Sally would spend the day at Jack's house, and then sleep in her old room at the Doctor's manor. They adjusted the routine slowly, as her creator mentioned that she did not react well with change, until finally she could comfortably sleep in her new bedroom. In a way, it was comparable to moving a child from a crib to a toddler bed.

Sally's living arrangements were, therefore, no longer an issue.

However, Jack had recently grown a bit worried about the trick-or-treaters. He felt guilty about putting their idol and guardian to death, and although they seemed perfectly content with living on their own, in charge of themselves, he couldn't help but think that it wasn't right for three children to be on their own like that. After all, the corpse boy lived with his parents, the mummy boy with the Cyclops (although he followed the Mayor around like a lost dog, helping him however he could), and the gargoyle girl with the four vampire brothers. Lock, Shock, and Barrel used to be under the care of Oogie Boogie, but, of course, that was no longer possible.

The Mayor had not been especially concerned with the situation when the master of fright brought it up with him one Tuesday morning.

"I'm just not sure why you're so concerned," He had said, "They're fine on their own. We don't need them getting any more ideas by giving them a guardian. They can take care of themselves. Besides, nobody in their right mind would want to take care of them."

_They're only kids, _Jack had wanted to say, but he didn't.

A few days later, an idea had come to him; why not adopt them, himself?

It had seemed like a brilliant idea. It took him a while to corner the three and ask them their opinion on the idea.

Their reaction to his first proposition had gone somewhat like this...

"You? Adopt _us_?" Lock repeated, arching a thick eyebrow at the skeleton in front of him. The three locked eyes, and their smiles grew into identical grins. For one absurd, insane moment, Jack thought that the finest trick-or-treaters were about to not only willingly but also, in fact, gladly agree to his suggestion.

A short time later, however, proved his previous thoughts wrong.

Lock, Shock, and Barrel had started laughing.

Not just their infamous series of mischievous giggles, either, but fully-fledged, very loud bursts of laughter that made them double over, clutching their stomachs.

Jack watched them in bewilderment as their cackles grew louder, and, at least for the young witch, more shrill. This was the last reaction he had expected to get out of him. Laughter? He had been, in every respect, serious when he had said that.

They apparently realized this, too, because after a minute, their laughter died down, and their smiles faded even more quickly.

"We're perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, Jack," Lock finally spoke up.

"Well, these morons wouldn't last a day without me," Shock digressed, earning two heartfelt glares, "but Lock's right," (The devil grinned triumphantly, although he looked mildly surprised at her acknowledgment, at the same time.) "We don't need a babysitter. See, this way, we can do whatever we want! Nobody to boss us around, no chores, nobody to get annoyed when we're too loud, we can stay up for as long as we want... face it, Jack, living on our own is so much better. Now, boys, let us go."

And with that, the trio walked off, nearly arm in arm, leaving him in a stupor much like the nonplussed one he was in right now. A stray cat walked by, flipping its long tail against his calves before stalking off.

Still, Jack couldn't let them fend for themselves at their age. If they insisted on not being adopted, he'd just have to find an alternate solution.

* * *

**A/N: **This is a relatively short chapter from my usual, I know. Anyway, this story will be challenging me on a few levels: one, I'm writing this as a prelude to an upcoming (and already partially written, although it will not be posted until this is finished) story to avoid confusion on its part, as it does require a prelude. Two, this story deals with several things that I do not normally agree with: Lock, Shock, and Barrel being taken in, and their age gaps are bigger in this story than I believe they are. There will also be several things that I normally do not write in this story. You have been warned.

Before anybody asks, no, this is an Alternate Reality of my Forever By My Doll's Side series' universe. This is its own, completely independent universe, even though one scene is slightly déjà vu of it.

~*Inferno Shock*~


	2. Chains

Chapter II: Chains

* * *

"I knew it, he's here!" Lock hissed, peaking around the corner of the town hall building, "I swear, I think he's stalking us."

"That's a really creepy thought," Shock added unenthusiastically, "So, O' Devious One, how do we get past him without him badgering us?"

"'O' Devious One'? I feel godlike; I like it."

"Just get on with it before your massive ego makes us suffocate."

"Alright, alright... um..." Lock took a look around, his eyes narrowed in concentration. His yellow eyes passed over the stoning pillar, which was surrounded by two small, untidy piles of small to medium sized stones, and his face lit up, "Can you bring one of those rocks over here?"

"I don't think stoning him would help us," Barrel said doubtfully.

"We're not going to stone him, stupid! We just need a distraction. So, Shock, can you?"

"I don't know, maybe!"

"Go ahead, then. Summon one, witchy."

"Actually, there's a rock over there. Why don't you just get that one?"

"You're such a baby. You're gifted at magic and yet you hardly ever use it."

"I am not a baby!"

"Then get the rock!"

"You get it yourself!"

"_Fine!_"

It was a miracle that no passersby had heard Lock and Shock shouting, Barrel thought as Lock crawled over on his stomach to a stray stone that lay a few feet away. It was a very amusing image to see the young devil mimicking a snake or even a tiger stalking its prey to retrieve a simple stone. Presumably he was doing this as to not be seen, but considering that his appearance, clothing and all, was made up almost entirely of red, which was probably the most eye-catching color, and the fact that he looked so ridiculous doing it was probably was not in favor of his attempted stealth. No, he couldn't possibly be trying to be stealthy; the ghoul had known Lock long enough to know that he was actually very good at being "sneaky-like", as he called it, when he wanted to be, helped by his superhuman agility. Barrel would've said that he was trying to show off if the devil didn't look so comical.

Lock apparently realized this, too, as he dropped the act as soon as he reached the stone, picked it up, and dashed back over to his friends like his tail was on fire, where said friends were trying very hard not to laugh at him and risk drawing attention to their hiding place; one well known fact about the trio was that they were even louder when they were laughing than when they were shouting.

"Sh..." The devil hissed, pulling a face of mock concentration as he aimed the stone. Barrel had to bite the sleeve of his shirt to keep himself from laughing. Now he knew for sure that Lock was being so entertaining on purpose. Shock, on the other hand, did not look amused anymore and let out a huff of disdain, rolling her eyes. The boys ignored her. Less than a minute later, Lock tossed the stone, missed, and hit the poor Mayor instead, whose head began spinning at the sheer force of the stone, impressively – or maybe it had been more of the fact that the impact had been unexpected. Regardless, it was enough to make Boogie's Boys collapse on top of each other in a heap of laughter, completely forgetting the original motivation to throwing the rock in the first place.

They must've stayed there for several minutes, perhaps more. In either case, when they finally calmed down, the skin over their faces had turned a colorful assortment of red-violet, green, and blue, respectively. The vivid colors faded as they caught their breath, still giggling on occasion. A townsperson in the distance shook their head at them (they couldn't tell through their bleary eyes who it was). A thin shadow cast over them, sharper than the shadow of the building, and they halted their laughter altogether. When they looked up against the shadow of the town hall to look into the face of the person, their faces sprouted identical scowls at the sight of the very person they had been trying to avoid.

"Jack, can't you just leave us alone already?" Shock growled, crossing her arms as if to help her point and leaning back, back to back with her devilish friend (who she found to be a very reliable pillow and decided to stay in the position for a little while longer than she had originally planned to), "We already said a hundred times that we're not interested, right, boys?" To her simple delight, they nodded in agreement.

The skeleton sighed.

"Look, I know you don't want to, but you can't take care of yourselves. You're still too young."

"We've been doing just fine for months now," Lock said, mimicking his older cohort and crossing his arms over his chest, "Besides, it's _your_ fault that our caretaker is dead."

Jack flinched.

"I know, that's why I want to make it up to you."

"Well, for your information," Shock said, "We're perfectly happy living in our tree house and taking care of ourselves. See, if we did let you adopt us – don't get your hopes up; I'm not saying we will, because we won't – we wouldn't be free to do what we wanted anymore. Sure, we liked Mister Oogie Boogie, but now we can do whatever we want and nobody can argue otherwise. Give us one reason why living with you would be better, hm?"

"Well... where are you going to get the money to get food and other necessities?"

"Oogie has plenty of money stored away in his lair, and he did give us a little, too, when he wasn't squished into the floor," the witch spat.

"And what will you do when it runs out? It can't last forever, and you're too young to work."

"It'll last years, Jack. We'll be adults by the time it does. I mean, we haven't even had to go down there and take any yet; we still have some of ours left. We don't spend that much money, and we're fine. You may spend an eighth of your money in a month, but that doesn't mean we all do. _And_ we know how to improvise."

While the Pumpkin King was devising a comeback to her point, Lock, Shock, and Barrel got out of their awkward positions, Barrel rubbing his knee (Shock had had her legs crossed over his, and had therefore not been able to get up without stepping on him), and brushed off their clothes.

"Well, it was... _nice _to see you, Jack, but we gotta scram," The devil said, grabbing his cohort's sleeves by the seams and urging them forward as they walked away from the skeleton, their noses held higher than usual and making it very clear that they were growing irritated at the so called "master of fright".

Dejectedly, Jack made his way back towards home.

* * *

When he opened the door and walked into the main room of his house, he was surprised to not see Sally hunched over the table in the kitchen through the bar, busily sewing away at a nightgown for herself that she had decided only yesterday that she wanted to make. (She liked the patched dress the doctor had made for her when she was new, but she wanted a separate nightgown for sleeping so that the dress didn't require maximum care to keep it clean.) Then he remembered the day: Thursday. That was one of the pre-determined days in which Sally would visit her creator. Her "check-up" time had already passed, but Sally loved being outside, and was no doubt having a walk around town before returning.

Jack sat down at the table, thinking hard, rubbing the temples of his skull. He knew that Boogie's Boys were best off with a guardian – and he also knew that he would be the only one willing to take care of them – but it was proving difficult to convince _them_ of it.

He had thought that perhaps the conversation he had with them today would help convince them, but that thought had quickly gone down the drain. They had comebacks ready for each point he had.

There was one thing that he hadn't tried, yet... the Mayor would hate him for it, but if it worked...

"Jack?" Sally's quiet voice wafted over to him as the front door closed behind her. The clicking sound of her heels on the linoleum tiles announced her coming into the kitchen seconds before her small hands took their place on his shoulders.

"Sally?" He asked slowly.

"Yes?" She replied softly, shyly putting her head between her hands on his shoulder.

"You know how that, if I – if _we_ – did take in Lock, Shock, and Barrel, Shock would technically take the throne if I stepped down, being the oldest?"

A uncomfortable pause.

"Yeah...?"

"Well, do you think that would convince them to let us adopt them?"

Another pause, but this one was thoughtful silence.

"No," The rag doll finally concluded, "I do think you should tell them that before you take any action if they agree, but I don't think that'll help. I think it'll make Shock happy... but Lock and Barrel won't like it."

"Yes... yes, you're right, of course."

"I think it'd actually be better when we had a child – " Sally must've felt like she had crossed some line by saying that, as she blushed bright purple (and Jack was sure he would've, too, if he could blush), "I-I-I mean if – _if _we had one... to just... give that right to them, and, in the meantime, just not mention it..."

"Well," Jack said, averting his eyes in the awkwardness of the conversation, "We haven't even been dating for a year yet, so I think it's safe to tell them, anyway. I just wish I could think of how to convince them that having us adopt them is better than living on their own."

Sally nodded, still brightly flushed, and gently massaged his shoulder in a comforting manner.

"You'll think of something. I know you will."

* * *

**A/N: **I couldn't stop laughing while I was writing the last scene between Jack and Sally; it just seems so awkward to me. (And Sally starts contradicting herself, which just makes it even funnier to me.)

I can't help but realize how similar this is sounding to my Forever By My Doll's Side series, but as I may have already told you in the last chapter (I can't remember if I did, and I don't feel like checking), they are completely separate universes. And, yes, that means that Lock, Shock, and Barrel will not be adopted in that series.

The title was inspired by the proverb "a chain is only as strong as its weakest link", which Jack may or may not want to know for this story. We'll see...

Anyway, I'm happily surprised at how much attention this story has gotten so far. According to my "traffic", it's currently competing with "Break A Vase" for the most visitors (more reliable than hits, especially since BAV is a multi-chapter story... as is this, now). Reviews are strongly encouraged, as always.

~*Inferno Shock*~


	3. We'll See

Chapter III: We'll See

* * *

"Jack, I don't doubt that you're doing this with the best intentions, but have you really thought this through? They don't _want _to be adopted, and I don't think it's a very good idea to try to anyway," The Mayor twisted the orange ribbons of his badge anxiously in his hands as he spoke, the sharpened teeth of his worse side showing under his lips.

"Mayor, I know they're not on your best side, but they're still children. They're too young to be expected to take care of themselves entirely."

"They've managed for the last few months, haven't they?"

Jack sighed, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers, as if he thought the movement would make his mind think of a response more quickly.

They had entered the month of April precisely seven days ago. The young tricksters had managed to evade the master of fright for nearly two full weeks now. Whenever he'd spot them, they'd mysteriously vanish. What concerned him was that they were growing increasingly better at it, and for the past couple of days, he hadn't seen them at all. It was an unexpected and uninvited change, and it worried him that it would be difficult to find them if he genuinely needed to; they were disturbingly good at not being found if they didn't want to be.

* * *

"'Mourning, morons," Shock greeted unenthusiastically as she walked into the "kitchen" area of the tree house, snatching up the bottle of sour milk off the table and clonking Barrel on the head with it.

"Ow," The ghoul moaned, rubbing the area and shooting a displeased look at her, which she pointedly failed to acknowledge.

"I think we deserve a reward," Lock declared, striking the table with the end of his spoon, sending tiny splatters of milk flying off the head of the spoon.

"By 'we', do you mean _you_ or all of us?" The young witch asked, frowning as she scrutinized the empty cereal box with a critical eye.

"Us three," The redheaded devil confirmed, pointing to each of the trio in turn with his spoon, ending with himself.

"Why?" Barrel asked through a mouthful of worms and cockroaches.

"We haven't seen Jack for two weeks!"

"Hey, don't jinx us!"

"Oh, c'mon, Barrel," Shock scoffed, digging throw the cupboard, "We haven't actually _left_ the tree house at all for a week. The only way we're going to see him is if he comes out here himself," Despite herself, she cast a glance out the narrow window, as if expecting Jack to be hovering outside (this was unlikely, as the tree house was a good twelve feet off of the ground that the tree itself sat upon).

A rare moment of silence fell between the three. Not one of them spoke for a good three minutes.

"Ugh!" Lock groaned finally, pushing his empty bowl away from him and dropping his head down onto the table, "I can't take this any longer! We're going to rot if we don't go outside!"

"I know what you mean," Shock sighed, taking an unenthusiastic bite out of the toadstool in her hand, "There's nothing to do here, and we're out of candy."

"_Out of candy_?" The devil and ghoul exclaimed in horror. She nodded solemnly.

"Great, now we really need to go out," Lock grumbled, nibbling at the end of his spoon absentmindedly.

"Hey, don't go ruining another spoon on us!" Shock scolded, snatching the spoon from his hand and holding it up to her face, inspecting the handle of the utensil. Lock rolled his eyes.

"I'm hungry," Barrel complained as his stomach grumbled.

"You just ate the rest of our cereal, how are you still hungry?"

"Lock took most of it."

Shock's eyebrow flew up as she shot a look at the devil.

"What? I was hungry!" He defended.

"Barrel, what's left in the cupboard?"

"How am I supposed to know? I can't reach it!"

"Use the stool."

Grumbling, the ghoul trudged over to the cupboard and hopped up on the small stool in front of the wooden counters, swinging the doors of the cupboard open.

"Uh... there's pumpkin pie, some... apple seeds, I think; a squid tentacle–"

"A _whole_ tentacle?"

"No, it looks like it's just a foot of it..."

"Damn. Go on."

"There's some pizza leftovers, some nutmeg, the jug of apple cider, and–" He took a jar out, sniffed at it, and made a face, "– I have no idea what this is."

Shock groaned.

"Well, I guess we have enough for today–" She began.

"Are you kidding me?" Lock cut in, "We have maybe _a_ meal and dessert. That's not enough for a day!" He looked to his younger cohort, "She's trying to starve us, Barrel."

"I'm not trying to starve us! Fine, we'll get out and get some food."

"I hate shopping, though!"

"I never said we were going to shop."

The look on her face made him grin.

"Ooh... we're going to do it the _easy_ way!" He said gleefully.

"Of course, Lock," She grinned back, giggling.

* * *

"Can we get a pumpkin?" Barrel asked later, eyeing the gates to Behemoth's briars.

"Can we just make sure this stuff _fits_ in the cupboard, first?" Lock asked, shifting one of their trick-or-treat bags over his shoulder.

"Sure," Shock said to Barrel, ignoring her redheaded companion, "If you get it. We can put it in the cellar if we have to."

"Shock!"

"What? Pumpkin is good."

"But don't we have enough already?"

"Think of it this way; we won't have to come back for a while after this."

"I hate you."

"Aw, 'love you too."

"Don't say that, please," Lock cringed. She laughed. Barrel came waddling back over to them, clutching a large, ripe pumpkin in his hands, looking satisfied at his choice.

"There you three are!" An unmistakable voice called behind them. The trio stiffened and gritted their teeth.

"Hello, Jack," Lock half-growled as the Pumpkin King strode over to them, but Shock dropped all formalities.

"For the last time – and I mean it, now – _no_!" She snapped before Jack had even gotten a chance to open his mouth. The three ex-henchmen turned to leave, but Jack sidestepped in front of them.

"Please, just hear me out," He held up a skeleton hand, sensing that they were about to interrupt, to silence them, "I didn't come over here to ask you again," They looked shocked, so he continued, kneeling down to their level as he spoke, "I wondered if we could reach a compromise. I was talking to the Mayor earlier, and I had an idea. You three can spend a week at my manor next month. If you don't like it there, you can return to your tree house, and I will not bother you again. Otherwise... at least think about it, alright?"

The children were silent for a moment, seeming to honestly consider his offer. Finally, they looked to each other, then back at him.

"Alright, just for one week," Shock nodded slightly, not looking happy, but not being able to resist being inside the Skellington manor, either. Amazed that he had gotten them to cooperate, Jack nodded and stood up.

"That's all I ask for."

* * *

**A/N: **Ah, now we've got things rolling! I meant to update this story last month; I apologize. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it.

I was stuck on how to finish the first sequence for ages. Finally, I decided to just end it where I was at and continue onto the next scene. And what do you know? It worked!

Before anyone asks, "mourning" was _not_ a typo. It was an idea I had to put a Halloween Town-spin on "Good _morning_". Once again, not a typo.

As always, reviews are love.

~*Inferno Shock*~


	4. Lace Up

IV

Lace Up

* * *

"Do you have to bring that stupid cat?" Lock groaned, narrowing his eyes at the sleek, coal-black ball of fur that was balanced precariously on the brim of Shock's tall hat, which eyed him back with almond-shaped eyes, "I thought I'd be rid of 'im for a week."

"Of course I'm bringing him," She replied nonchalantly, reaching up and rubbing the tips of her fingers against the angora's long coat, receiving an affectionate purr in response, "He'd be lonely without us here. Besides, I'm bringing my scorpions. It wouldn't be fair if I left him here."

"That's a bad thing?"

He dodged a shoe sent at his head. It landed with a _thunk_ on its side a few feet away.

"C'mon, it's only a week! He'll live... Unfortunately."

A second shoe followed the first. This time, he didn't dodge in time, and the sole of the Mary Jane hit him squarely on his pointed nose.

"I'm taking Flem with, Lock, whether you like it or not," She snapped, pulling the drawstring of her black duffel bag closed, "And why haven't you gotten your stuff packed yet? Jack wants us to leave before it gets dark."

"I can get packed in two minutes, I don't need to start now."

"Yeah, you do. I'm not gonna wait for you to get your stuff ready at last minute. You'll hold us all up."

"Says you. You just spent twenty minutes packing one suitcase."

"Well, we're going to be gone for a week. I want to make sure I have everything I need... and, ah, a few 'extras'," The tiniest smirk imaginable grazed her face, as if she was trying to hide it and but was failing, "It takes a while to pack for a week, so you should better start."

With that, she made a dramatic wave with her hand and pointed to the open door, as if to say "you're banished".

Lock put on the deepest scowl he could muster and crossed his arms over his chest. Sticking his blue tongue out at her, he went to storm out of the room when a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, Shock. Am I gonna have to carry everything I pack myself? We're bringing Crack with us, right?"

Crack was the name the trio had come up with for their walking, claw foot bathtub at a younger age. The tub was such a frequent part of their lives, as they brought it everywhere if they were bringing along with them any more than their masks and a piece of candy or a weapon and even rode in it on occasion, and being the small children they were at the time, they had eventually decided it worthy of a name. Lock couldn't remember who had suggested it – he was pretty sure it had been Barrel – but the name had stuck. The tub, while it could walk, couldn't talk, but it was animate, and didn't seem to mind the name. Then again, after having suffered four years with the rowdy tricksters, being nicked by the weapons they often loaded it with when it walked and carrying bags of candy that weighed more than the children themselves by now, he supposed it had given up on complaining and just dealt with it, if it had ever tried in the first place.

"We're bringing a week's worth of clothes and candy with us," She replied, her hands on her hips, "I don't know about you, but I don't want to carry that all by hand."

Taking her answer as confirmation, he left, murmuring, "This is stupid..."

"Not as stupid as being stuck in that place forever!" Shock called back.

* * *

To say the trio wasn't thrilled at the prospect of staying at the Skellington Manor for a week might've been a bit of an understatement.

If they were completely truthful, they would've admitted that they had agreed to the terms with their mischievous sides leaping before they looked. As it was, however, they just did it to get Jack out of their hair once and for all... Only about trying to adopt them, but it was a good enough deal for them.

But when they trudged up the staircase to the elevated house with long cords of rope in their hands, they were in considerably worse moods than they were earlier that afternoon. And wet.

"I don't think Jack likes us very much," Lock groaned, squeezing droplets of rain out of his makeshift horns of hair, which were drooping from the water weighing them down.

"Oh, _yeah_, because he can control the weather or something," Shock snorted, "Hurry up, Barrel."

"I'm right behind you!" The ghoul protested behind her, grabbing the back of her belled skirt as his foot slipped on the slickened rock stairs. She scowled, smacking his wrist with her mask, and he let go.

Lock reached the top of the staircase first, and turned around, crossing his arms and scowling from underneath his grinning mask. Realizing that they had fallen behind, Shock and Barrel quickly ran up the rest of the stretch of stairs to reach the devil. He reached for the plastic spider hanging from a cord that disappeared back into the wall of the house, but Shock nudged him aside and grabbed it herself, making the legs curl inward from her tight grip. While he regained his balance, she pulled, and the doorbell system let out a high-pitched scream like a teapot's whistle.

"Hey, I was going to ring it!" Lock growled, shoving her and tearing his mask off of his gaunt face so as to properly bare his shark-like teeth at her. She stumbled, but quickly regained her balance by putting a hand on the wall.

"You're not tall enough to reach it," The necromancer replied, shifting into a defensive position.

"Yes I am!"

"No you're not!"

Sensing an all-too-common fight about to ensue, Barrel reached out and yanked on the spade of his red-clad comrade's viciously swaying tail. Lock forgot about Shock and, ever the sensitive about his tail being grabbed, pounced on him, cheeks flushed an angry red, throwing them both off the steps and onto the ground below. This they hardly noticed, however, and sprang into a fight on the cobbles.

Shock scowled down at them and hopped off with them, landing neatly on her feet, intending to scold them for being so immature. But Lock reached out and wrapped his fingers around her ankle, sending her straight down onto her back, and immediately the three begun a group brawl, not even noticing the door swinging open.

Jack poked his head out, and when he spotted the quarrel on the ground, he shook his head in exasperation. Didn't those three ever stop fighting?

He crouched down, and when he was certain he could reach the children, he grabbed Lock's tail and Shock's arm and pulled them away from each other and their younger cohort to cease the battle.

Their shoulders slouched moodily and frowns etched into their faces (Barrel had put on a much more neutral face, and seemed to forget his bad mood entirely as they crossed the threshold of Jack's home), the tricksters snatched up their ropes and followed Jack back up the steps and into the main room. The sounds of clinking metal, china, and glass served as a quiet background music as the skeleton pulled the door shut, shutting out all outside noises save for the patter of the rain on the windows. Flem, who had been calmly walking in beside them, spotted the staircase and made his way over to it, ascending it and sniffing at the stairs or railing ever so often until he slipped out of sight.

"Sally?" Jack called as the trio scanned the surprisingly small main room with their eyes.

The clinking stopped, and a moment later, Sally's soft voice answered the call.

"Lock, Shock, and Barrel are here."

"I'll be right out."

True to her word, Sally stepped out of the kitchen another moment later, and the trick-or-treating trio immediately noticed that she had a bundle of peach, apricot, and battleship gray fabrics tucked delicately under her arm. Fine metal pins were sticking out of the fabric, a few poking into the bits of cloth that she was made up of, but she seemed to either not notice or not mind. She gave them a shy smile, and they were quick to return the gesture with large grins. They didn't know much about the mad scientist's living creation, but she seemed like she'd be amusing to pester over the next week, if they had to pull out a few tricks from up their sleeves if she started showing signs of wanting Jack to adopt them, which was the last thing they wanted. They were there to prove to the new couple that the last thing they wanted to do was adopt them. That, or her presumed kindheartedness would get on their nerves, but it would be easy enough to avoid her if that turned out to be the case.

"Pleased to meet you," The rag doll greeted, then turned to Jack, "I'll just put this down, and I'll meet you all back here for dinner. I thought I could sew the sides while dinner was cooking, but my needle broke. I'll have to get a new one tomorrow."

Lock, Shock, and Barrel's grins faltered slightly. They hadn't intimidated her like they had expected.

"Don't be disheartened, Sally. The dress you have on hasn't stopped suiting you in the years you've worn it, don't feel rushed to make this one. I'll even get you a set myself, if you want," Jack offered.

"Oh, no," Sally suddenly sounded upset and embarrassed, "I still have some from the money you gave me for the fabric."

"Ahem," Shock loudly cleared her throat, "This is romantic and all..."

"But our stuff is getting rained on out there and we'd really like to get everything inside," Lock finished for her.

"Oh, of course!" Jack said, snapping his attention back to them and giving Sally a slight pat on her shoulder as she left the room, "I'll help you bring everything up to your rooms."

"Actually, just show us where the rooms are. We'll haul everything up from there," Shock raised her rope up, showing him the large, blunt metal hook on the end. Jack blinked, then gave a slow nod as he comprehended what their plan was.

He led them to the second floor of the main part of the house, the last floor before the attic area. They passed Sally's room on the way up, which wasn't exactly on another floor, for it was the only room between the first floor and the second.

"Jack, I have to wonder," Shock began as they reached where the stairs broke off into the second level, "It's just a little too convenient that you just _happened_ to have enough spare rooms for us to stay in."

"This story has five rooms, actually," The tall skeleton replied, "Four rooms large enough for a study or bedroom, and a bathroom. When I was a child, we had my room, my parents' bedroom, and the guest bedroom all on this floor. The tower I sleep in now was only ever just a library, and Sally's room was the billiard room and an office combined. The forth room was a longue.

"When the house was handed over to me, I changed the billiard room to the guest bedroom, and my bedroom to the billiard room. I took the office part out and put it in the tower with my bed. The former guest bedroom was changed to a storage room. I couldn't think of anything to do with my parents' room for a long time, and I think part of me didn't want to touch it at all. Eventually, though, I got rid of the bed and wardrobe, moved what I could and didn't want to sell or throw out to the attic, and it eventually just became a room where I put everything that didn't fit in the attic but didn't belong in any of my other rooms, and finally the longue became a storage space for my money vault.

"Sally moved in with me a few months ago, of course, so I no longer had a guest room. I never expected to have guests before now, so I wasn't really concerned with setting one up again. But when I invited you three over and you accepted, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I dug through all four rooms-"

"Wait. Why'd you clean out four rooms? We're only three people," Lock interrupted.

"I figured I might as well go through them all while I was at it," Jack replied, "Anyway, I went through the first three rooms, selling anything that I didn't use, need, or really wanted. Luckily, I managed to clear out even more than I had expected, and then I went out and bought beds and dressers for the rooms. I cleaned out the storage room next, and put all the furniture from the rooms and other artifacts that I wanted to keep in that room: the billiard table and the money vault, for example. A few things that I didn't want I put in the rooms you'll be staying in, as well as some that I did intend to keep. I did the same with the attic – went through everything I had up there, that is."

"Why bother spending so much time on the rooms? Unless you think you're going to convince us to stay..."

"I don't count on it, Lock. However, that way you'd be comfortable for your stay here, and the necessities will be there if you do change your mind. If not, I'll simply sell back the beds and wardrobes and return the rooms to their original purpose. This time, though, I think I'll keep the second lounge. The idea of my gold having a room to itself always made me uncomfortable, but I never had any use for the room."

He reached for the doorknob of the door closest to them, signalizing a close to the conversation. He pushed the door open.

The room inside was lined with black and white pinstriped wallpaper that had been faded slightly by the sun streaming through the windows over many years. A full-sized bed, already made up with sheets patterned with various bones, sat in the far corner of the room away from the door. A strange sculpture of a tentacle stretching into the air made of what appeared to be some form of black iron sat on the floor besides a night stand, which had only a small clock and a lamp perched on it. An oval-shaped, leather chair sat in the corner directly across from the door under a framed oil-based painting. A short dresser was pushed against the same wall as the door, with two shallow, fabric-lined wicker baskets on top, both empty. Above the dresser hung another three paintings in one frame (or maybe photographs). But even with the picture frames and iron sculpture, the room would've been rather dull if not for the area rug that filled the furniture-less space, which appeared to be black silhouettes of a tree canopy on a white backdrop.

"This was my bedroom when I was a child," Jack announced, confirming their unvoiced assumptions, "Barrel, I thought you would be comfortable in here."

Barrel, however, seemed not to be listening, and had eyes for only one thing in the room.

"I get a real bed?" He exclaimed in glee, his signature ear-to-ear grin back on his face as he walked into the room, throwing himself on the bed, if only to make sure it was really there.

"Don't get too attached," Lock warned, "We're not staying for long. Right, Shock?"

"Lock's right. You'll be back to your bed at home in no time," Shock nodded. Barrel stuck his tongue out at them.

"Don't ruin the moment."

Jack began to walk past the room, and Lock quickly followed. Shock picked the cord of rope up from where Barrel dropped it, threw it at him, and then followed her devilish cohort and the so-called master of fright down the hall.

Jack went straight past the second and third doors in the hall and headed to the forth. The door of this room was open by a few inches, and when his skeletal hand reached to push it open the rest of the way, a furry, black blur flew out of the room at top speed, as if knowing they were coming. Lock tried to stomp on it with his curled shoe as it dashed past him, but it dodged him with ease, spitting at him as it found a hiding place between Shock's ankles. His shoe pushed harshly down on the wooden floor where the blur was seconds before.

"Stupid cat!" He growled at the black mass.

"Lock!" Shock yelled at him, scooping up her beloved cat protectively into her arms, "Can't you leave him alone for once?"

"That cat is driving me _crazy_!" The devil snapped, his tail swishing agitatedly behind him as he stormed up to her, "I swear, if you don't get rid of it, I'll... I'll..."

"You'll?" She questioned, looking irritated herself but also somewhat bored.

"I'll throw him out the window when you're asleep tonight!"

She laughed, "You wouldn't do that."

"Oh, I wouldn't?"

"Hey, hey," Jack cut in, sensing a fight about to emerge, "None of that."

He put his hand on Lock's back between his shoulder blades and ushered him forward into the room, putting himself between the children. The devil stuck his tongue out at the witch, who returned the gesture with just as much feeling.

This room was larger than the last, if only because of the cavity in the wall that was directly across from the door. The crevasse was just large enough to fit another full-sized bed, this one dawned in sheets the color of chocolate ice cream and a large, arched window. The area, which appeared to have been added on, was almost all the way to their left of the room, with the wall behind the headboard of the bed in just enough for the nightstand (a plank of wood upon a small wheel) to be placed against it, in the original part of the room. A large patchwork rug filled most of the room (although to have it be patchwork seemed strange, since it was made of the same material all over). There was no chair, but there was a toy chest next to the bed area and under a painting that looked like a barcode instead. A low dresser was in the corner directly left from the doorway, with nothing but a set of wooden blocks, turned to spell the devil's name, set on top. The remaining wall had a set of three paintings, all of the trees of a forest in different angles, to fill up the empty space. The wallpaper, whatever it had formerly been, had been painted over with a dark taupe paint.

Shock frowned, feeling that Jack had spent more time on Lock's room than Barrel's (and, most likely, hers as well).

The redheaded trickster, on the other hand, seemed to have absolutely no problem with it, if he noticed. He strode into the middle of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, scouring the room as if for any flaws.

"I could live here, I guess," Lock concluded, sounding as if he didn't want to admit it, as he quickly added, "If I had to."

Shock let out a guttural "ugh" in exasperation and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, please," She said, "There isn't even any red in here. Not one drop. Your room back home is full of it."

Lock gave her a look.

"I didn't say it was my dream bedroom or anything," He hissed, "I just said it won't kill me to stay here for a week."

"Shock," Jack pointedly began, leading her away from the room. She let out a final huff, but allowed herself to be led to the last room on the floor with a frown set into her face like stone.

The first thing she noticed about the room she was to be staying in was how empty it felt. Two curtained windows were set in the wall opposite her, but there were no windows on the right wall (the entrance to attic was besides this room). The wallpaper was very dark gray, close to black but not that dark, with a battleship gray design that looked floral but was difficult to make out to be sure stamped out on it. The floor was plated with Purple Heart wooden flooring, stained black in a few places from water spills. A bed – this one, too, full size – had its headboard pushed up to the middle of northern wall with the gray-curtained windows. A wide, shallow trunk was stationed at the foot of the bed, and in front of that was a black area rug that had white partial rings patterned on the rug that would make a complete sonar ring system if four of the same rug were put together. To the left of the French bed was a black dresser with a clock above it, and a simple wicker laundry basket beside the dresser. On the other side of the bed was a round nightstand with only a figurine of a sitting black cat on it, and the very corner had a strange, magenta potted plant to try and lessen how empty the room felt. A mirror made of circular pieces of glass and iron twisted into spirals was hung on the wall facing the dresser, reflecting the clock above it. She was pleased to see that she, too, had a leather armchair (she supposed that her and Barrel's were a matching pair) situated in the corner of the right side of the room facing the bed and chest, although she didn't have a use for it and it was surely just another attempt to fill the empty spaces. She could see that there were two picture frames hung on the wall that the door was set into, one being above the chair, but she couldn't see what was set into the frames.

"No blocks spelling out my name, Jack?" She noted dully, looking around, "Bit empty... I'll be able to fix that."

She wandered over to the dresser, which wasn't much taller than the bed, if not the same height, and set down the coil of hooked rope and her mask down upon its surface. From where she stood, she could now see that the picture frame nearest to her depicted an oil painting of a blue-haired sorceress sitting on a giant, lit up jack-o-lantern. The other, the one above the leather chair, was also a painting, this one of a scarecrow in a graveyard.

"Those are some old paintings, the color's fading... Strange thing to keep around. ... Jack?"

She turned when she realized that she was met with nothing but silence, and saw that the skeleton had already left the doorway.

"Fine, then," She said as she put her feline companion down onto the pansy purple sheets. Flem mewled at being put down, and then curled up on the sheets, giving her a look that repeated her previous words. Shock rubbed behind his ears, then stepped out of the room.

* * *

Lock's bedroom was directly above the bathtub carrying their belongings below, and so the trio used his window to retrieve their possessions. Barrel ran outside to attach the hooks to the ropes that tied the bags shut, and one by one, the three bags were brought up. They had used their three trick-or-treating bags to pack, and once they were up, Shock and Barrel lugged their respective bags to their temporary quarters.

After countless rearranging, being temporarily stalled in their progress for a dinner of soup with bits of who-knows-what sprinkled in, and an argument that broke out over toothbrushes (they argued over which shelf in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom on that floor each of the trio would have theirs, and eventually agreed to going by height for convenience, with Shock having the top shelf and Barrel having the bottom shelf), the tricksters finally finished their unpacking before midnight and lied down in the unfamiliar beds, skipping brushing their teeth and only barely remembering to change into their nightclothes, hoping to get a few hours' rest before having to deal with anything the next day brought.

* * *

**A/N: **My apologies if the end sounds a bit rushed, but this chapter is nine pages long, over twice my average chapter length, and took over a week to finish, and I wanted to get this chapter over and done with and posted for you, my readers. I know, nothing much happens in this chapter, but hopefully you'll enjoy it, all the same.

Special thanks to MissNemisisFace and Kyoko Samuruki. Your reviews kept me from getting too frustrated with this chapter for taking so long, even with their short length.

We'll be getting into the more interesting chapters soon, I promise... I have a lot in store for them.

~*Inferno Shock*~


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